


Awful Sentimental

by BlueSteelFairy



Category: RWBY
Genre: Amputation, Blood and Violence, F/M, Possession, Torture, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:16:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSteelFairy/pseuds/BlueSteelFairy
Summary: After the relic of knowledge is lost, Team RWBY is on the run, and Atlas prepares for Salem's siege. Discharged from the infirmary for light duty, Winter is summoned to General Ironwood's office. She assumes this is to debrief and report what happened regarding the Winter Maiden in person. And, to an extent, she isn't wrong. However, she is unaware of who else awaits in his office, and the horror that awaits the injured specialist...
Relationships: James Ironwood/Winter Schnee
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Awful Sentimental

Winter Schnee believed she understood why she'd been summoned to Ironwood's office. Though she was still injured, she had loyally obeyed. With all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Winter needed to see General Ironwood.

When Winter emerged from the lift, the halls and corridors were empty. Between the eerie silence and traces of Team RWBY's clash with the Ace Ops, the empty corridor gave off a feeling much like the calm in the eye of the storm. Winter wasn't keen on that thought and focused on finding the General. Naturally he was in his office and staring out the window at the city of Atlas. Winter frowned softly and she shut the door behind her.

  
"You shouldn't torture yourself, James. You've done the Atlesian people right. I just wish I had done better."

When alone, Winter and James had become informal, even using each other's first name. Not that she’d ever named what she’d felt-she assumed he knew, but if he didn’t, she wouldn’t burden him with her girlish affections. It was enough to stand by his side through thick and thin, heaven and hell. Since before she’d entered Atlas Academy, General Ironwood had inspired her, and earned her respect. When she was a student, he’d earned her undying loyalty. As a young woman-well, that was a secret she kept for the time being.

His lack of response caused Winter concern, and she stepped forward another step, her hands behind her at parade rest.

“James? Is this...because my sister escaped?” She swallowed hard. Had she allowed Weiss to escape? Personally she simply wasn’t certain. She’d been severely wounded during her battle with Cinder-she’d had to have stitches and her torso was still bandaged beneath her uniform. “Or because...I failed to become the Winter Maiden?”

Winter had failed him. One way or other, or in more then one. Penny had become the Maiden, and she’d left with Team RWBY. Atlas was facing its greatest threat to date-and they were in worse shape to combat it then she could recall. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so concerned with her own shortcomings, she would have noticed something was off sooner.

Winter reached for the general’s shoulder, and then she noticed something most peculiar. His arms hung almost limply at either side of him. He wasn’t standing at parade rest. He wasn’t holding his flask. He wasn’t nursing his injury. He just...stood there. She never touched his shoulder, instead drawing back her hand. This stance was not the James Ironwood she knew. Was he that defeated? She was strangely reminded of the dolls she’d been given as a child-tied into their cardboard prisons until someone released them, trapped at a completely neutral stance.

“Who inherited the Maiden’s powers?”

It was the first thing he’d said since Winter arrived, and she was relieved to hear him speak. She sighed quietly and put her hands behind her back.

  
“It would appear Doctor Polendina’s efforts were even more of a success then we imagined. There was a point when Frea unleashed her powers-I couldn’t get in, the polar vortex was too great. During that time, Penny dove in, and connected to her. Thus, she inherited the abilities. Unfortunately, she left with-” Winter never got to finish her sentence because Ironwood rather abruptly punched the window of his office, hard enough that it cracked. She froze as he spoke, because it was his voice, but it didn’t sound like him.

“That old fool?! His puppet became a Maiden?!”

“General...Ironwood?” Winter whispered as she took a step back. Something was very wrong. “I-I apologize for being the bearer of such unfortunate tidings-”

He finally turned to face her, and Winter’s blood turned icy. His right eye was glowing electric blue, and that small metal plate above it was alight and white hot with energy. His face-it was two completely different halves. The left side was afraid, scared, begging her to run. The left side of his mouth was a frown-but the right side was a smirk.

“No, Specialist Schnee. You’ve been quite helpful to the cause.” Again, it was Ironwood’s voice that spoke as he stepped towards her. Run. She saw it in the left side of his face, but she was suddenly frozen to the spot, unable to process what she saw. “Especially your mannerisms. I had no idea you and the general were so casual with each other.”

The general and I? Her eyes widened as the unspoken finally flicked. It isn’t James talking. Someone else was. Someone else was controlling him. That’s why the left side of his face-the half that James was still in control of-was trying to warn her. Dr Polendina can help. That was the only thing Winter could rationalize right then-the only option she could think of. She turned on her heel and ran for the corridor. It was when she reached the doors of his office she realized she wasn’t going to leave alive. The gunshot rang in her ears, her aura shattered, and she almost didn’t feel it until her leg gave out. Winter collapsed to the ground and she heard screaming. Was it her? Had she distanced from herself that much? No-it was Ironwood. Whatever part of him was still in control, even as his right arm put his gun away. The shot wasn’t meant to kill her, she realized as she looked at her leg-it was meant to cripple her.

“Really, James never should have fallen for that trick with the rings,” Not Ironwood spoke as he took his time walking over to her, “I mean, I’d probably have been able to hack his nervous system eventually, given it is wired to his cybernetics, and he had to have that cranial plating. However, by putting his remaining organic arm through those rings, he mapped out his nervous system for me. It made the process much faster.”

Who am I speaking to? Winter wouldn’t ask the question, she wouldn’t give whoever it was that satisfaction. She would figure it out on her own, even as they menaced her. They’d given her plenty of clues now, and she would process them. He reacted when I mentioned Doctor Polendina. He hacked the general’s body through his cybernetics. He talks about him by name. He talks like he interacted with the general not that long ago.

It was the last piece that made her jerk her head up in anger as she tried to rise onto her remaining good leg.

  
“Arthur Watts,” She spat the name as she narrowed her eyes, “Remove yourself at once. As you’ve compromised General Ironwood and I am his second, that is an order of the highest level!” She was glaring at him, but her eyes were behind him. She didn’t have to do this alone, if she could just invoke any number of her summons-

Then he was there, beside her, and this time she knew the scream _was_ her. His right, mechanical hand jabbed into the new bullet wound in her leg, and his left drove through her bandages into her earlier injury.

“I’ve also mapped out his memories, Specialist Schnee. I know exactly what you’re capable of. That farm boy tried to interrupt, so I had to remove him from play. I also know every moment you two have shared. He may be willfully obstinate-but I am not. How long have you been in love with James, then?”

Winter’s breath caught, and it cut off the scream of pain. Her eyes widened as she stared up at the twisted face of the man she’d never so much as let herself think she was in love with.

  
“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Don’t you, Winter?” Arthur snorted through Ironwood’s voice, “I’m looking at every look and expression you’ve ever given him. Shall I tell you something else?”

“Like I’d believe a word you’d say,” Winter hissed, though she cried out when the right hand in her leg tore through muscles and flesh, causing her to fall again. Or it would have, had he not shoved his other hand into her gut, which now kept her pinned to the door she’d tried to escape from.

“Believe or not, that’s up to you,” Arthur chortled in that cold echo of Ironwood’s voice, “He’s the same way. Completely in love with you, but he would never say the words. He didn’t want to compromise your position, he knew how important it was for you to make your own reputation. To be more Winter then Schnee. And he suspected, understandably, if he ever considered pursuing you, that it would ruin your chances. Not that that matters now.”

“You-you’re lying!” Winter cried out as she lifted her arms despite the pain in her gut and tried to push him away. She would not be the limp armed doll Jacques had already wanted. Not now, not when it mattered most, “Release him!”

He stumbled back, and somehow it almost hurt more when his hand left her bloody wound. She collapsed to the ground and coughed up blood, but she lifted her face to glare and began to invoke a glyph.  
“-if you hurt me, your precious general takes the blow. Or haven’t you figured that out?” Watts answered almost tiredly as he sat on the edge of the desk, “Besides, I’m feeling bored, so I may have a much easier solution for you.”

Winter felt venom rising in her veins where the ice had been before. She’d never hated anyone so much as Arthur Watts at that moment-not even Jacques. However, he was right. Anything she did to him would hurt Ironwood. It wasn’t just about her own feelings. Salem was on her way to lay siege to Atlas and Mantle-they needed General Ironwood. Even if Winter was his second-that took ability and grace under pressure she didn’t think she had in her current condition. Much less if I’ve killed him.

“-what’s your solution?” She reluctantly growled as she took to her bad knee, needing her good leg to rise if she was to do so.

“Confess your feelings. And I’ll let him go.”

What?

It felt like a trap. It couldn’t be so simple. Or so difficult. I could just say it. If I say it, he’ll let him go. I could claim after I just said it to free him. Maybe the reason she actually believed him was the blood loss. Or maybe she was desperate. But could she lie the truth? Could Winter really pretend something she believed so strongly was a lie?

“Why should I believe you?”

“If you’re asking if you can trust me, you can’t. But what choice do you have? I suppose you could try to kill him. But you’re not looking so hot, and I’m not affected or slowed down by his pain. You’re at a severe disadvantage.”

Winter hated it, but he wasn’t wrong about any of it. Her aura had already broken, she doubted she could run-much less fight-on her leg right then. And she was losing a lot of blood from her torso wound.

“-Fine. I love him.”

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Watts raised a brow and looked at her, and she hated that he was wearing Ironwood’s face. “We’re talking about his freedom and or life. Tell him. He’s listening, don’t worry. He doesn’t have control, but he does have full sensory awareness.”

Of course he did. Winter glared once more before she slowly rose to her feet. Her injured leg was shaking as she tried to shift her weight. Probably not dancing ballet again. It was an idle thought to keep herself distracted from how out of control things were.

“This...wasn’t how I imagined saying this,” She started to speak, and she could tell Watts was about to respond, “-I’m not finished. You want me to do this? I’m doing it on my god damn terms.”

“-Fair enough. Carry on.”  
  


“I never imagined saying this, actually,” Winter exhaled, “I know you were ever aware of propriety. Our age difference would cause you pause. The fact that you are my superior officer. It’s against regulations. There are so many reasons nothing could ever happen between us. And I’ve been telling myself that since I was still just your student. I told myself it was a girlish crush on the first adult who treated me half decently. But years passed and I learned it was so much more then that. It was something I couldn’t ignore, so I simply accepted it, and kept quiet about it. It’s not why I’m loyal to you. It’s not why I respect you. But I love you, James. For the same reasons I respect you and I’m loyal. You’re an extraordinary man. More then that, you are a good man who would give up everything for his nation if it meant the difference. And I have every reason to assume I’ll be in love with you until the day I die.”

“Well, frankly, that’s quite likely to be true, my dear.”  
  


Winter felt her expression turn terse as she glowered at the figure before her.  
“You said you’d let him go.”  
“And I will.”  
  


She realized his intention moments too late. She was pinned on the ground, and another shot rang-a bullet driven at point blank into her sword arm. Winter gasped, unable to scream from the shock of everything happening.

  
“I’ll let James go. But not until after I make him kill you,” Arthur continued speaking in Ironwood’s voice, and Winter felt flashes of memory flying past her eyes.

  
Ironwood escorting her out of her coming out party when she left home. Helping her when students from other schools cornered her for nefarious purposes. Covering her when she fell asleep in the common area and carrying her so gently back to her dorm she didn’t notice until she woke up with his jacket over her. Handing her her hunter’s license when she graduated from the academy. Giving a speech to the soldiers when she first enlisted. Recognizing her prowess. Offering her a promotion. Long nights spent planning missions and defense options. Comforting her when she got a letter from Weiss reinforcing how awful Jacques was. The panic in her heart when Beacon fell, and she realized two of the three people she cared most about in the world were in danger. How dejected the general had been when he returned, and how she was the only person he let near him.

  
“Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear,” Arthur continued in James voice as he produced something she hadn’t seen before. It looked like a letter opener, though she didn’t trust her vision anymore, “And then I’ll let him wake, to see what his carelessness wrought. To leave him alone, screaming with grief, in a pool of your blood.”  
  


Winter thought she couldn’t scream anymore, but she was wrong. When the letter opener slid beneath her uniform, her heart had stopped beating, and she’d struggled. She had one good arm and leg left, after all, and she was a Schnee. She was the eldest grandchild of Nicholas Schnee, and as long as she had the energy to fight, fight she would.

  
“-oh interesting,” The voice of the man she loved spoke, in that strange calm way that was not him, “I wasn’t thinking of that direction. If he knew that was a fear of yours, he kept it from me. Perhaps you never told him? Well, no matter, I know now.”

  
James probably did know, even if they’d never spoken it. There’d been a particular Vytal Festival dance that had gone terribly wrong. If Ironwood hadn’t stepped in, it would have gone so much worse. Even as it was, Winter was still affected, and perhaps that was why other romance had never blossomed. She knew it was why she pinned her hair up still. But it appeared that knowledge was abstract enough, Watts hadn’t been able to construct it. Not that it mattered, because she’d betrayed the secret.

“But I can’t quite control the biologicals-perhaps the slicing of your flesh will have to do.”  
“You’ve shot me twice!” She cried out in indigence, coughing on blood when she did.

“-Ah, a very good point Specialist Schnee. If I don’t do something about that, you’re going to bleed out before I can do much else. Fortunately for you the man pulling this puppet’s strings is a doctor.”  
  


Somehow, that was anything but comforting. He pinned down her good arm and leg with his own mass-James’s arm and leg-and began to slice at fabric. Winter screeched and tried to swing her injured arm at him, but only screamed when pain ran through it and her vision flashed white.

“Now you’re just being proud, girl-”  
  


She was glad she couldn’t see clearly anymore. Just kill me. She wanted to scream, trying to free her functional limbs as she was stripped to her undergarments. But why is he tearing my clothing? She could hear it even if she couldn’t see it in detail. It was only when he tied a knot around her left shoulder it struck her what was happening. Even in her dazed, pain racked state she recognized a tourniquet.

“Don’t want you dying early on us, do we?” The smirk she made out was cold and uncharacteristic on Ironwood’s face. Her cheeks felt wet, and she turned her head away upon realizing they were tears.

That was why she didn’t see him begin cutting into her arm beneath the shoulder. Winter screamed with the pain and tried to struggle, but her strength was sapped. Pain was exhausting.

“Normally I’d include anesthetic, but, well, where’s the fun in that. Besides, James wouldn’t have anything we could use in here anyway-” Arthur paused, apparently noticing something, “He still has that fancy flask, doesn’t he?”

  
Winter didn’t know how her face could betray her right then. However, her eyes must have, because suddenly Arthur knew exactly which pocket to dig into.

“Ah, yes. A nip of brandy. Literally the only pain control he’d allow himself once his form was settled to it’s new state. Be a good girl, and open up? This will hurt, and I do want to cause you pain, but if you faint or die first, that makes it far less fulfilling.”  
“I don’t drink,” Winter murmured, eyes low, and avoiding his gaze.  
“It’s medicinal, and it’s not like you’re going to live long enough to become your mother.”

  
She jerked her face up, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing her jaw to pour the contents of the flask between her lips. Winter tried to pull her face away, but cold metal fingers held her in place as the liquid burned down her throat.

“Your mother’s alcoholic antics aren’t news. I’d have to be an idiot not to guess that’s why you don’t drink. And while I am many things, an idiot isn’t one of them.”

Winter started to argue, or try to spit in his face. Before she could, he was cutting again, and her vision was whiting out with the pain. Any numbing capacity of the brandy wasn’t kicking in yet-and she wondered if that was just another way Watts was torturing her. Well, she would wonder it once the only thought on her mind wasn’t pain.

Before that, when he began to work at the bones connecting her arm to her shoulder, Winter blacked out. Occasionally she’d still fade in and out of consciousness, and wished she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to know what was happening. Just let me die. She could feel her blood pooling beneath her as he cut into her, and was blinded in one eye by the time she reached her final spell of consciousness. It could have been moments, minutes, or hours. The only reason she identified that final moment of awareness was his expression. Horror.

  
“Schnee? Schnee!” He was shaking her in a panic, and his touch felt almost tender on her shoulders.

She tried to open her remaining eye. Tried to lift her remaining arm towards him, but she couldn’t. Was that her heartbeat slowing in her ears? Was she hallucinating.  
“Jah-jay-”

The answer was a scream of agony, and she couldn’t help the relief that washed over her. It was him again. James. I forgive you. I’m sorry. She desperately wanted to say those words, but she was losing focus again.

“...No,” General Ironwood, the real Ironwood, carefully lifted her form in his arms. Winter shifted against him, letting her eye close. There were worse ways one could pass from the world then in the eyes of the man they loved.

  
“This is all my fault, Sc-Winter,” They were moving. He was carrying her somewhere. She was too far gone to care. She just wanted to feel his warmth, hear his voice, and know it was him. Atlas and Mantle both had a chance, even against Salem, as long as General James Ironwood lived. Her life didn’t matter. I disagree. Penny’s words felt like a lifetime ago. In a way, she supposed, they were.

There was arguing. She heard it far away. It was James, and a female voice, and in her haze she could only make out bits.

“-Alexandrite-”  
“-Heart is failing-”

“-a donor-”

“Too far gone-”

“-Save her-”  
“General-what-”  
“Oh my god!”

”I love you, Winter. I’m sorry.”

The last sound was a gun shot. A thud. Shouting-running-beeping. And then she was gone.

* * *

Except oblivion never came for Winter Schnee. She woke up in a hospital bed, numb and groggy. Something was wrong with her vision, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. An anxious looking doctor was beside the bed, clinging a clipboard to her chest.  
“Winter? I’m Dr Alexandrite. Can you tell me how much you remember? We don’t know if your brain ever lost oxygen-”  
“James,” Winter gasped and sat up, her hands curled around the blanket over her. Hands. She had two of them. Perhaps that had all been a terrible nightmare? “Where’s General Ironwood?”

“-I’ll assume you’re fine then, and we can do a more intensive check later,” She bit her lip, “There’s a lot of things you’re going to have to get used to, so I’d like you to take it one step at a time.”

“I’m alive, that’s more then I expected. I appear to have all my appendages,” She wiggled her toes under the blanket, and she could see two lumps of fabric move, “So I’d say you did amazingly well. What a nightmare. What happened to me?”

“Nightmare?”

A nurse on the other side of her bed looked surprised. She blinked, and Alexandrite sighed.  
“This is Nurse Angela. She assisted with your surgery.”  
“My surgery?” Winter blinked, and that’s when she realized both eyes weren’t blinking. Just the left one.

“There’s-ah-you’re going to have a lot to adapt to, but the good news is the nervous connections seem to be solid-Miss Schnee, I can’t recommend-”

Alexandrite began to speak, but Winter reached down to rip the blanket off her body. They’d covered her in a flimsy hospital gown, but there was no denying what she saw. She had two legs-her left leg had been replaced with bionic one, and she realized so too had the matching arm. That really happened. Winter touched the metal of her left arm with her right, her heart racing in her chest.

“We could see about a cybernetic eye once you’ve recovered more,” Angela offered, clearly trying to be helpful, “But it’s not suggested right now. There’s a lot more custom work involved-”

“General Ironwood,” Winter whispered, her voice faint now, “Where is he? I need to see him.”

A glance passed between the doctor and nurse, one that Winter saw even with only one eye. She lifted her face, and she looked between them.  
“Is he leading the defense?” She demanded, “Is that why he isn’t here?”  
“No, it’s not that,” Alexandrite exhaled, “You should lay back down.”  
“It was extremely romantic, if that’s any consolation,” The nurse spoke quickly.  
“Angela,” Alexandrite hissed, “Remain objective, please.”

“What was extremely romantic?” Winter turned her attention to Angela. She wanted the quicker answer-not the long objective medical one.

“When he brought you, you were in bad shape. A lot of injury, and lost blood. But the biggest problem was your heart, it was failing-fast. We wouldn’t have had time to hook you up to a machine, and we don’t exactly keep donor hearts on ice,” Angela took a breath, “And despite advances in cybernetics and bionics, they’re one of the most persnickety things to make. But once they’re made, they’re universal. So-General Ironwood-he-”

Winter had a terrible thought she knew what they were saying. She remembered the gun shot. The confession. The apology. The thud.

“Miss Schnee-” Alexandrite cried out, but Winter tore open the front of her gown. There, between her breasts, was a long, fresh wound. It had been stitched up with surgical skill, but there weren’t that many things she could imagine they’d done in her chest.  
“No,” Winter whispered as she touched the scar.

“-we couldn’t save him. He shot himself in the head,” Alexandrite took a breath, “I’m sorry.”

“-but he made it pretty clear he wanted us to save you.” Angela added.

It wasn’t as helpful as the nurse might have thought. All that Watts had done to her-wearing Ironwood’s face-Winter had persevered in the desire to save General Ironwood. To save James. Suddenly the new found discovery of bionic left limbs, and her missing right eye, weren’t relevant anymore. The nurse and doctor still spoke, but Winter stared at that scar on her chest, and what it meant. James Ironwood was dead. The greatest man she’d ever met, save perhaps her grandfather, had sacrificed his own life on the chance she’d live. This isn’t right. Atlas still needs him. I still need him. And Winter screamed in agony as her heart-his heart-broke in her chest.

**Author's Note:**

> || So this was originally considered for a "Bad End" one shot tragedy about Winter and James. For those of you familiar with my writing, "Little Lies" was supposed to be a one shot first. In the original idea I had, Winter and James both died-I was inspired by the conversation between Loki and Natasha in the 2012 "Avengers". I even left one line in there from it. However, I've got some stuff going on, so I had to take breaks while I was writing. That led to me getting different ideas. The original working title was "Atlas Falls". However by the end I decided to dig out the Tin Man's theme song for something I liked better and found more fitting. The consequence, of course, is there will probably be additional chapters or drabbles in this terrible continuity I have created. I do still have some original work I'd like to get done-but like I said. Suddenly I had ideas.


End file.
